A Cat Returns Christmas Carol
by fringeperson
Summary: My 2nd Christmas themed CR ff, but I felt like something nice and cultural after I wrote the Wedding Night, so I took a much spun story and used it again. I own none of the CR characters.
1. Chapter 1

Louise was dead to begin with. This was a fact. Once she had been part of a great tree, then granted new life when an apprentice carved her, named her and placed her beside the Baron.

Baron was the chief, and only, mourner of her passing. To the rest of the world she appeared as ever she had – a fine doll, delicately carved and beautiful. She had been bought, and he was glad to see her go, for it pained him to see her forever-lifeless wooden body standing there.

He closed his heart to the world, shrouding it in ice and perfect manners. His home became known as the Cat Bureau, rather than Humbert & Louise – he had changed the sign, shutting out all memory of emotion.

"Merry Christmas Baron," Muta said, bursting through the door with a wreath hanging from his neck.

"Merry Christmas Muta," he answered cordially, stifling the urge to cry "Bah!" and throw up his paperwork in frustration.

Tomorrow was Christmas. Muta and Toto had worked together, sweeping up snow and decorating the refuge with tinsel and coloured lights, setting up a nativity scene around Toto's pillar, from which they had hung a star. There was even a tree with a few gifts underneath it out there.

Inside the Bureau, however, was a different matter. There was a long on the fire, and Muta had left a little holly lying on the mantelpiece, but otherwise, Baron had done nothing to festivitate his home and office.

"What's this? Not a thing but my left over holly?" the large cat exclaimed. He searched a moment to see if there was some other minute thing that the Baron might have done that he had missed. Finding that there wasn't, he confronted his friend.

"I'm not in the mood, Muta. Go carolling with Toto, leave me in peace," the elegant orange gentleman said, rising from his desk and filing away the last of the day's papers.

"What's the matter?" he wanted to ask, but he knew he wouldn't be told. Baron didn't discuss his feelings; often he pretended not to have them, which infuriated Muta no end. Rather than waste his breath, Muta shrugged and, leaving the wreath on Baron's desk, bid him goodnight.

Baron ignored the wreath, just as he had left the holly, and made himself a cup of tea before turning out the lights, sitting in darkness relieved only by the glow of his fire.


	2. Chapter 2

"Baron Humbert von Gikkingken," said a voice from behind his chair.

He stiffened. It had been so very long since he had heard that voice. Its owner was dead. Her wooden form was probably wrapped up as a gift to some careless child this very moment. He glanced at the portrait he had painted of her, that spring day when she had agreed to marry him, the day before her life had been taken from her.

"Humbert," the voice said, drawing closer.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he steeled himself to turn in his chair and face whatever it might be, that sounded so like his long-dead Louise.

A figure floated there, translucent and slightly blue around the edges – but then, she had always liked blue dresses, they brought out her eyes. White fur and a soft smile, she drifted closer to him.

"Louise?"

"That's right," she said. "Why are you doing this to yourself Humbert? I was pulled from my slumber to speak to you this night. You're killing yourself."

"It can't be you," Baron said, too shocked by her presence to be aware of her words.

"But it is," she answered, kneeling down beside the arm of his chair, just as she had done when she was alive and wanted most desperately for him to listen to what she was saying. He had often been distracted by his work… "Humbert, I don't have long with you. I have been sent to warn you: you will be visited this night by three spectres, and you must listen to what they have to teach you. Not only for your sake, but also for the sake of others. Humbert, please, you must _listen_," Louise appealed, covering his hand with hers just as she began to fade, disappearing again.

"Louise…" he still couldn't take it all in.

She was gone.

His empty teacup fell from his hands, and tears started to flow. It had been so long since he had felt anything, and now she came and went, breaking his heart all over again.

He had no notion of how long he sat there, crying, but when the grandfather clock struck the first hour he had finally run out of tears.

A bright light, different to his own light show, flashed about the room and a hand touched his shoulder. The hand belonged to a young man… a child… a little old man covered in wrinkles… the light burned above his long white hair.

"Who are you?" asked the Baron, surprised to have a visitor so late at night. He hadn't even heard the door.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," said the old looking young man. There was a cap under his arm, likely for hiding the light that burned over his head, and he wore a cloak of thick, undyed wool.

"Long past?" asked the Baron, curious about his visitor.

"I can remember back to the very first, the reason that Christmas is celebrated, but I am here, Baron von Gikkingken, about Christmas Past since you first saw them. Come along," he said, grabbing the cat by his gloved hand and towing him to the door.

The spirit didn't bother to open the fixture, simply passing through it as though it was not there. Baron was surprised when, following, he did likewise. What confronted him beyond the door, however, was not the refuge. It was the workshop where he was made, and there was the apprentice, carving and painting.

"Dear boy, making a gift for his sister, working late on Christmas Eve, just so that she can smile in the morning," said the spirit, smiling upon the young man.

Baron moved closer, over and around the pots and tools that covered the workbench. Intent on what his maker was doing.

"Samuel," a voice said from the door. The boy looked up, freckles on his nose, paint on his cheek and a mop of red hair sticking out from under his cap. "I'm going now, will you lock up?"

"Yes Master Jason," the lad answered.

"Don't work too late, and I'll see you in the New Year."

"Enjoy your holiday Master Jason," the boy said, watching the door close behind the man who was teaching him his craft.

"Now Baron Humbert von Gikkingken, Baroness Louise von Wattlebriar, will you make sure that my sister smiles in the morning?" the boy asked his creations as he set them on the shelf to dry. "Yes, I think you will." With that, he went to find a box for the dolls, and wrapping paper and a ribbon.

Baron smiled as he watched his maker wrap them up tenderly. They had made little Harriet smile the next morning, when they had blinked and asked her if it was time to get up when she pulled the tissue paper away from them.

"A happy beginning," the spirit said, laying a hand on Baron's shoulder.

"There were many happy Christmases with Samuel and Harriet, but she got sick, and he got old, and only Louise and I were left," Baron remembered.

"Let us see one of those Christmases," suggested the spirit, urging Baron forward, through another door – a doll's house not yet finished. Beyond, a snow covered park lay waiting for them. One pocket of green only to be seen, under the boughs of the pine tree that had been decorated for the season.

Baron saw himself, just as he had been, just as he still was, running, Louise in his arms. He knew what this was, this was the last Christmas he had spent with his beloved: the Christmas she had died.

"We're following them," ordered the ghost, grabbing hold of Baron's hand and flying after the running figure, almost lost in the snow.

He watched it all over again, holding Louise in his arms by the grated fire of what was now the Cat Bureau as she died, slowly losing life and warmth, turning back to wood forever.

"Humbert, I want you to promise me that you will keep on living," Louise said, a white hand caressing his cheek. "Promise me."

"You took her to an antique shop a week later, too broken hearted to even look at her," the spirit reminded him. "But you kept her portrait."

"That wretched portrait," answered the Baron, "is why she died. Standing out in the snow, not complaining that the cold bit at her. I had to keep it though."

"I won't ask why," said the Ghost of Christmas Past. "But we have some other Christmases to visit," he said, turning the Baron once more for the door.

"Is that Muta?" Baron asked, incredulous, as he watched a kitten shiver in the cold, rake thin and pitiful.

"It is," answered the spirit. "This was his first Christmas, the one he drowns every day in eating, thrusts away every year by celebrating in as gung-ho a way as he can." The spirit turned a hard golden eye on the Baron. "A Christmas without decoration brings Muta back to this memory, when he was alone and starving. Fortunately, he was found."

Baron looked again at the nearly frozen kitten and saw that a young woman was picking him up.

"Poor thing," said the girl, she was probably in her late teens judging from the shape of her clothes. "Come on, I can't keep you, but what Mum and Dad don't know can't hurt us," she added, tucking Muta into her jacket for a little extra warmth.

Baron and ghost followed Muta and his saviour until they came to a simple little house, hardly a decoration in sight; just a wreath hanging on the door.

"My parents are away, working over the Christmas and New Year break, so there isn't much," the girl explained, fetching out a dish, some milk and some fish, which she gave to the young Muta.

"I think I understand him better now," Baron said quietly, watching the kitten eat as fast as he could, desperate to not let the food get away from him.

"We have one more Christmas to visit," said the ghost, tugging gently at Baron's elbow.

"Wait, what's her name? This girl who saved Muta, whose parents are working over Christmas?" asked the cat, resisting the pull for a moment.

"Naoko," answered the ghost.

Baron let himself be taken.

This house was much like the one they had just left, only there were more decorations.

"Mummy, how will we get the star on top of the tree without Daddy to hold me up on his shoulders?" asked a little girl, big brown eyes wet.

Baron felt as if he should know this girl, and her mother, but he could not place them.

"We could bend the tree over," suggested the mother, trying to joke, despite the despair that oppressed her. "Oh Haru, no, don't cry," she said, taking her child in her arms and holding her tight.

Haru. This was Haru's first Christmas without her father. It seemed like no one had a perfectly happy Christmas every year. Baron watched, sympathetic to mother and child – hadn't he lost a loved one just before Christmas too?

"Naoko?" a voice called from the door.

"Oh, come in!" the woman called back, still holding her daughter.

Baron stared. Haru had saved Yuki and Lune, Naoko had saved Muta – it seemed that saving cats ran in the family.

"I thought you might appreciate this," said suit-clad gentleman, a large cardboard box in his arms. "He said that he wanted me to bring it around on Christmas morning, but… I thought Haru might like her present from her father a day early."

"Thanks Harry," Naoko said, letting go of her child just enough to extend an arm to her brother-in-law, meaning to include him in the hug as well.

"Don't thank me just yet, I'm afraid it grew the other day," Harry said, putting the box down.

"Grew?" Naoko asked as Haru unfolded the top of the cardboard box. A look of wonder spread across young Haru's face.

"Sam got her a cat, then she met the old tom who sometimes visits me, and now there are kittens," Harry explained.

"That's all right, I always wanted a couple of cats," Naoko answered, gently picking up one kitten that looked a lot like Muta. "I think I know your father," she said quietly, though she had never been at Harry's house when the afore-mentioned "old tom" was visiting.

"Spirit," asked the Baron, "Why do you show me these things that make my heart ache?"

"They're just shadows of what has been, I cannot help what they are, I merely keep them. It's time now, you have two more visitors yet this night," with that, the spirit vanished, leaving Baron once more alone in his chair by the fire in the Cat Bureau.


	3. Chapter 3

There was there merest of orange glows still there, so he threw on kindling and another log while he waited for the second spirit.

"Now that is what a fire should be," said a happy, large voice beside his chair.

Startled, Baron turned and found himself faced with a great bear of a man, though he was shrunk down to fit in the Bureau quite comfortably.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," said the hairy man, seeing the question on Baron's own cat-face. "Will you join me for a Christmas Day? Good," he said, not waiting for an answer but merely wrapping one velvet-clad arm around the gentleman feline's silk-covered shoulders.

The Bureau dissolved, and Baron watched as children ran in the streets, throwing snowballs and playing with toys. Families visited with their neighbours, and music could be heard issuing loudly from a few doors.

"You know what a joy Christmas can be, don't you my friend?" asked the spirit, a glint in his onyx eyes and a smile rearranging the beard on his face.

"I did once, but it's just been a time to relive sad memories for me for a long time," Baron answered.

"That is foolishness! Muta makes merry to numb the pain of the past, you saw him yourself. Oh! There he goes!" yelled the spirit, chasing after the fat cat.

Baron followed. It did not seem a sensible thing to be separated from his guide in this vision of Christmas, as it would be in a few hours time.

He jerked to a halt, surprised by what he saw: Muta acting shy. In his mouth, the large cat had carried a hamper, filled with all sorts of Christmas treats, and now he lay it down on the ground before a crack in the wall.

"Here, I told you I'd bring you something. Won't you come out?" Muta called, stepping back from the hamper.

A nose emerged, and two ears, and Baron realised that he was seeing a kitten, much like Muta had been, rail thin and freezing.

"He likes to complain a lot, but really he has a heart of gold," Baron said to himself, knowing now just how very true it was.

"You sure you don't want to find a family? I know a great kid, she'd love you take care of you," Muta said, opening the hamper and helping the kitten to steaming food and warm milk.

"I don't trust humans any more," the kitten said. "Not since the man threw me and my brothers and sisters away in a sack."

"At least you made it out," Muta said, wrapping a blanket around the kitten as she lapped up the warm milk hungrily.

"She's in good paws," the spirit said happily, a hand on Baron's shoulder.

"Where are we going now?" Baron asked, following the ghost willingly, curious to see what else this night held for him.

"We're going to see a friend," he said, turning a corner and walking down a garden path to the door of Haru Yoshioka.

"Haru," Baron whispered, going ahead of his guide through the front door and into the small living room, where Haru and her mother were sharing a meagre Christmas Lunch. The tree was up, decorated, the star sitting on top, and underneath, hidden amid all the torn paper, was one last present, addressed: to the man of the house.

His heart ached to see that. He had seen it beneath the tree when the Ghost of Christmas Past brought him here. It must have been for Mr Yoshioka, and every year they brought it out and put it under the tree.

His eyes stung with tears.

"To what we have left," Haru toasted, her voice determinedly cheerful, though he could see her eyes were red with unshed tears as well.

"To happy memories," Naoko replied, raising her glass to her daughter's. "May they never make us sad." There was a hitch in the woman's voice; she looked about to cry as well.

They must have been talking about Haru's father, thought the Baron as he watched them drain their cups.

"Is it okay for me to go for a walk, Mum?" Haru asked, the meal finished.

"Want to show off your new dress to all the boys?"

Haru blushed. "And Hiromi," she said.

"Go on then."

"Now Baron," said the ghost, drawing the figurine's attention away from the young woman who he cared for more than he would admit to himself. "I have a Christmas gift for you, before my time is over," he said, reaching deep into a horn-like basket that Baron hadn't noticed before. It overflowed with fruit, but what the great hairy man drew out was a small box, wrapped in pale gold paper and tied with a white ribbon.

"That, dear fellow, is a Christmas Wish. One use only, and irreversible. Don't open it now, save it for the morning, when you've had some time to think about what you really want to do with it," instructed the spirit, fading away. When he was almost gone, he pointed over Baron's shoulder. "You have one more spirit to meet," he said.


	4. Chapter 4

Baron tucked the wish into his jacket pocket and turned. A tall, shrouded figure awaited him.

"Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?" asked the Baron, intimidated by the spectre.

It nodded.

"Lead, I follow," said the cat, approaching the ghost with trepidation.

He saw Haru, a grown woman, hanging decorations on a tree. For some reason, she couldn't reach the top to put the star on, and this living room was not the one she had shared with her mother.

_She got married_, the words burned between his ears, the silent voice of this final spirit of Christmas.

"Haru," a voice, male and unfamiliar, called demandingly from the next room.

Baron saw her flinch and turn towards that voice. A large bruise, the shape of a hand, could now be seen above the collar of her turtleneck sweater. She also had a fat lip and a slight limp as she went towards the voice she so plainly feared.

"Coming Machida," she answered, leaving the tree behind.

"He beats her, why doesn't she leave him?" Baron demanded.

_Where would she go?_

"She could… she could go back to her mother," he offered lamely, though he knew Naoko was not young when he had seen them sharing Christmas lunch just a short time ago, she was probably dead by now. "Does she ever come back to the Bureau for help?" he asked desperately, wanting there to be some relief for Haru, he couldn't bear that she was married to someone who would beat her.

With a sweep of the ghost's long grey cloak, Baron saw Muta, old and grey, handing over his job to a female cat, the one that he had helped in the back alley. She had grown into a fine cat, but something was not right in the Bureau.

"You have to remember to not let him get dusty," the old cat said, and Baron felt cold. "He set up the Cat Bureau, to help anyone who needed it, we can't let him get lost in dust after all he did for so many."

"Yes Muta, I know. Don't worry," the cat promised. "Besides, Toto is still here, he'll remind me," she added.

Baron ran for the house, his house. It couldn't be true – he wouldn't let it happen, he couldn't let Haru live with a violent husband while he stood dead, only wood. Yet, there was the truth of it. His unmoving, cold, solid figure stood stoically by the fireplace, hat on head and cane in hand.

"Please tell me that I can change this," Baron pleaded, turning back to the spirit.

_These are the shadows of what shall be if the present is not altered_. The ghost told him.

"So they can be changed?" Baron asked desperately. He never got an answer, everything around him faded into blackness.

The log in the fire broke in two, falling inward and clunking against itself. The sound woke him with a start, and he looked around him, terrified that it might be too late. Haru would already be married to that Machida, and he would be nothing more than a wooden statue by the fire; but it wasn't true.

Something else was true, however. There was something hard in his pocket. Baron stared at the small parcel, and thought. One wish, only one wish to fix the future. He needed more time to think.

Seeing the wreath on his table, Baron decided that he could at least do a little something. He moved to hang it up, then changed his mind and slipped it around his top hat instead, since it fit so nicely. Perhaps it looked a little odd, but it didn't matter – a crown of holly was fine by him this morning.

"Merry Christmas Muta, Toto," he said, striding out of the Bureau to his friends beneath their Christmas tree.

"Merry Christmas Baron," they said, surprised that he was out and in good mood. Usually, he stayed inside on Christmas day, though he had left them presents under the tree. What surprised them even more was that he was wearing a wreath around his head.

His thoughts were rushed; an idea was forming as he ran his fingers over the box in his pocket.

"Mistletoe…" he murmured. "Where can I find some mistletoe…"

"What do you want mistletoe for Baron?" Toto asked, surprised that the always polite – and just a tad cold – cat wanted the plant that, at Christmas time, was used by the feckless youths to steal kisses.

"Here's some," said Muta, holding up a box of unused decorations. "And what do you mean 'what do you want it for?' Birdbrain, Baron's going to see Haru, and he's got something up his sleeve." The large cat rose from his cold seat by the tree and approached the Baron, the little green branch in his paw and a solid look on his face. "You'll take good care of her, won't you Baron? You won't come back here and leave her with a mixed up heart."

"I'm not coming back, Muta," he said, looking his old friend right in the eye. "If you need me though, I'll be with Haru."

Muta nodded and handed over the sprig. Baron nodded and left.

"Now I want you to explain," Toto said. He had missed out on most of the adventure in the Cat Kingdom, while Muta had been with Haru just about the whole time.

Baron ran through the streets, searching for Haru's home. He knew how to get there, he had visited her once in the year since the Cat Kingdom trouble, and she had visited him a couple of times for advice, he forgot what about.

He rounded a corner and there was her house, just as it had been when he went with the Ghost of Christmas Present. Baron knew what he had to do now, what he wanted so very desperately to do. He unwrapped his gift from the Ghost of Christmas Present, closed his eyes and made his wish.

When Baron opened his eyes, the world didn't seem as large as it had a moment ago, and his smiled. Taking a step towards Haru's door, he was glad to find that the lack of tail and whiskers didn't affect his balance too much. He knocked on her door.

"Could you get that, Haru?" he heard Naoko call. She probably had her hands full in the kitchen.

"Hello?" Haru said, opening the door.

"Good morning Miss Haru," he said, removing his hat.

"Baron?" she asked, brown eyes large in surprise.

He smiled and nodded, putting his hat back on his head and handing her the mistletoe like it was a rose.

Haru took it from him, and stared in wonder for a moment.

"Won't you come in?" she asked, still staring at the sprig.

"Thank you," he said, hiding his worry behind that same mask he had been using for so many years to hide his emotions, promising himself that it would be the last time.

Haru closed the door behind him and went ahead of him down the hall, stopping a moment to secure the mistletoe over a doorway. Baron hoped she might lead him through that door so that he might have an excuse to kiss her, but she started in the other direction absently.

"Haru, who was at the door?" Naoko called from the kitchen, beyond the door that Haru had affixed the white-berried plant to.

"Hmm? Oh, Mum, I'd like you to meet the Baron, he helped me out of some trouble a year ago, and we've been in fairly loose contact since," Haru said, walking straight through the door, and indicating that Baron should follow.

He decided to stop under the little plant.

"Nice to meet you, please, do come in, make yourself at – oh," Naoko said, stopping herself as she looked over at him and noticed the mistletoe that hung above him. "Haru, look up, there's a dear," she said, noticing that her daughter hadn't gone more than two paces through the doorway and could be declared under the mistletoe with the Baron.

"Huh?" Haru said, confused. She did as she was told though, and blushed when she realised what had happened. Looking down from the white berries to his green eyes, she swallowed, suddenly very shy. She still had a crush on him after all.

Baron smiled and held out a hand to her, wanting to kiss her.

She slipped her hand into his and took those two steps towards him until she stood solidly beneath the customary plant.

Baron leaned in, closed his eyes and pressed his lips gently to hers in a chaste kiss.

"I love you Haru," he whispered as he drew his lips away.

"Planning on sticking around Baron?" Naoko asked, drying her hands and smiling as her daughter and the handsome young man turned to look at her, surprised – they had forgotten they had an audience.

"Planning on asking Haru to marry me one day, Mrs Yoshioka," Baron answered. He hadn't let go of her hand.

"She's too young to get married yet," Naoko said, a warning in her voice.

"I know," Baron said, truly happy for the first time in centuries. "I can wait."

"Well, it's time for presents, anyway," announced the mother, hanging up her apron. "And I'll start by giving _this_," she said, picking up the package for the man of the house, "to _you_." She put the old looking present in Baron's arms, making him let go of Haru's hand.

"Mum! We can't give that to Baron!" objected Haru. "Can you even remember what is in there?" she asked in response to the look her mother gave her.

"No," Naoko said simply. "But appropriate or not, I'm more inclined to let Baron be man of the house than that Machida, and man of the house means he gets this."

Baron privately agreed about Machida, and opened the gift. It was a tool kit.

Naoko burst out laughing. "Your father always was useless doing jobs around the house, I bet I got this for him as a joke!" she explained when the two younger people looked at her strangely. Naoko's laughter turned to tears. "The last gift I got him he wouldn't have even liked – he'd have laughed, but he would never have used it."

Baron put down the tool kit and shuffled over to Naoko.

"Happy memories should never make us sad," he said quietly, wrapping her in a hug.

"That's it, I'm not letting you out of my sight until you propose to Haru," Naoko said, returning the hug. "The schools can teach her how to earn a lot of money, and I will teach you how to be a good husband to her."

"I'd like that," he said, though he wondered how much teaching he would need.

"There's a spare room upstairs, it's yours now," the older woman instructed, removing herself from his hug and reaching for another present – this time for Haru.

"I don't know how to thank you," he said, watching Haru tear through paper to get to the box inside – it held a dress made of velvet and trimmed with fur. Haru ran up to her room to try it on.

"Be good to her, that will be thanks enough."

Haru returned, resplendent in white, and stood in the doorway to be admired.

"I promise," Baron said, standing up to kiss Haru under the mistletoe again.


End file.
